Hidden Places

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Okay, I know it's short, but I planned it that way-quick and dirty, like a sucker punch. ;-)

RCJ

"So what do you think this bottle is worth?" Dean focused on the whiskey in his hand, having listened to Carmine's elaborate tale of Liam Lily's homemade Irish whiskey. Two things made the story interesting to him, the fact Bugsy Moran had loved the stuff, and that no one seemed to have a clue any of the brew remained. That had to make it valuable. Focusing on the story kept Dean's mind off the pain in his chest, the fact it now felt like he was inhaling a hot flame every time he took a breath.

"I'm not sure, but I'd give you a thousand dollars for that bottle without even bothering with an expert quote." Vasquez was comfortably in the fireplace, his compact body fitting much better than Caleb's or Moose's.

"Which means it's worth at least five grand." Bobby rejoined them. He had stepped away when his cell phone vibrated. He pulled a white five gallon bucket close, flipping it over to create a makeshift chair. "Carmine's trying to cheat you, Kid."

"I don't cheat, Robert." Carmine continued to use his pocket knife to clean his nails. "I strategically negotiate a fair price for all parties concerned."

"Fair my ass." Bobby pulled off his ball cap, began reshaping the bill. "You scam people out of their property to make a profit."

"Their lack of research is not my problem."

"So you prey on people's ignorance." Dean didn't think Carmine was the type to educate his buyers.

"Don't we all depend on the lay person's ignorance in our line of work?" Carmine closed his knife and turned his overly bright smile on Dean. "Don't forget I also reclaim items of power that humans have no business owning. That takes a bit of cunning business sense. Pastor Jim counts on me to be constantly on the lookout for supernatural instruments. All guardians have their holy quests, I suppose. What are you interested in Young Winchester?"

"I'm guessing the only thing the kid is interested in right now is a way out of that hole in the wall." Bobby's gruff answer held a sharpness Dean rarely associated with the mechanic. Bobby busted chops on a daily basis, but his words were usually more huff and puff than blow a man down. It made him worry if Bobby's phone conversation held more bad news- like the dead end Dean's dad and Caleb had hit at the courthouse. "You'd be smart to mind your place instead of sniffing around for future business, if you know you what I mean."

"Consider me put in order, brother." Carmine sighed, glancing to Dean once more. "When we get you free, I'll give you a fair price for the whiskey."

"Maybe I'll just drink it and see if all the hype is true," Dean suggested, seriously considering the idea. Not only was he hurting, he was thirsty as hell.

"That'd be an awful expensive nightcap." Bobby sat his hat back on his head, pulled it low over his eyes before looking at Dean. "Besides your Daddy and Junior should be here soon with the key to freeing you from that cell. That was John on the phone. He told me to tell you just to hang in there a little longer."

"Dad and Caleb found what they needed at that bar, Lily's?"

"They must have because John said they'd just finished digging up the grave of old man Lily himself. He mentioned something about a ring that Caleb had seen in a vision. They're going to reach out to Missouri for the how tos on what to do next."

Dean could hear Caleb now, bitching about the fact he had ended up on the bad end of a hunt despite the fact Pastor Jim had promised him a gig free summer. Maybe Dean should have told Moose they were in the mob. Caleb was right about their life. Just when you thought you were free of your ties to the family, you got all tangled up in them again. Dean couldn't help to wonder what it would be that dragged Sam back to them, and if by that time Dean would have done what he told Caleb he had planned- moved on. After all, being a big brother was also a lot like having ties to the mob. You could run from one coast to the next, but your responsibilities went with you.

"You hear what I said, Kid?"

Dean blinked, realizing he'd zoned out as Bobby started ranting about Missouri's lack of specifics. The shadowy darkness was back, creeping along the edges of Dean's peripheral vision again. His desire to pull it closer, wrap himself in its emptiness, scared the hell out of him. He rubbed his eyes, clearing his throat, hoping the cavalry hurried and made their way to the rescue. "I heard you. Missouri's going to pull something out of her pointed black hat."

"There is some commonality among such spells," Carmine said, using a tone of genuine authority that Dean knew helped the sly fox swindle his share of customers. "As the old saying goes, there are only so many ways to skin a cat."

"In my experience it's thinking like that which can get you a fucking toad instead of a Prince Charming."

"I had no idea you were interested in princes?" Carmine waggled his brows at Bobby salaciously. The antiquities dealer was by no means flamboyant about his sexual orientation but he loved to get the proverbial rise out of fellow hunters when he recognized an opportunity.

Dean snorted despite the growl it earned him from the mechanic. "I think Bobby's point is he'd feel better if we had the exact spell that was used. As the old saying goes, God is in the details."

Carmine frowned at Dean. "I thought it was the devil."

"Not according to Pastor Jim." Dean often teased The Guardian for his unyielding faith, but found himself wishing Jim were there to offer his unshakeable belief in the fact everything would work out for the best in the end. Dean was beginning to feel more than a little hopeless as his chest continued to ache, his breath becoming more and more labored. He felt lightheaded. He wasn't sure, but it felt to him as if the room was now moving in a slow rotation around some orbit as invisible as the barrier that kept him from escaping.

"Either way you spin it, not knowing the intricacies of something could end us ass deep in more trouble."

"Funny you should say spin." Dean tried to hide his groan with a laugh as he brought his hand to his head.

"You alright, Kid?"

"I don't care how clear Missouri's spell is, Bobby, just get me the hell out of here."

Bobby didn't answer, so Dean rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes. He didn't know how long he'd drifted somewhere between consciousness, but his father's commanding voice had the same effect as a cold bucket of water. Dean jerked alert. He didn't see John right away. Caleb had replaced Carmine in the fireplace. His gold eyes were locked on Dean, narrowed with concern.

"You still with us, Deuce?"

"Unfortunately." Dean forced a half grin. "I wanted to run out, you know make that yoga class Lisa asked me to come to, but it's not like I had a lot of choice in the matter, man."

"You? Doing yoga?" Caleb shook his head. "I'm not sure even the promise of tantric sex will bring that day about."

"What? You do Tai Chi."

Caleb smirked. "Totally two different things."

"Yeah, I've seen your instructor." Dean glanced past Caleb, catching the first glimpse of his father, bent over his familiar green duffel. "Lisa looks much better in spandex."

"I'm sure she does. Definitely another reason to get you out of here."

"Best plan you've had all summer." Dean took his gaze from his father, leveled them on Caleb so he could read any deception. "Is that going to happen anytime soon?"

"Be ready to move as soon as this bitch shows any give."

Dean nodded, recognizing the bush being beat around. "Missouri gave you the spell?"

"Missouri gave us a spell," Caleb explained, truthfully which spoke volumes about his concern. If he thought things would go smoothly he'd just glossed over the facts. "Doubtful it's the same one, but probably similar."

"Bobby said something about a ring?"

Caleb glanced away. Just for a second, but Dean recognized the self-recrimination. "The witch was wearing it in the vision. Turns out it was a Lily family heirloom."

"Not like you'd have figured that out without some other link to Lily."

"We think she used it to bind the spell." Caleb looked over his shoulder. "Your dad's going to do the honors. Carmine's helping him get the stuff together."

"Hey, man if this thing doesn't work…"

"Don't even go there. It's going to work."

"I just, I mean…don't call Sam. I don't want to be the reason he's pulled back in again, not like with New Mexico."

"Okay."Caleb met his gaze with a familiar scowl. It was the one that said, he'd do it, but he wouldn't be happy about it . "But it's not going to come to that, Deuce."

Dean appreciated his friend's attempts to reassure him, but he was used to the Winchester odds when it came to plans going smoothly. For instance, he was not surprised in the least when his father started repeating the incantation wearing Liam Lilly's ancestral ring and the ceiling above Dean shook, dust raining down.

"John wait…" Dean barely made out Caleb's voice over the loud rumbling. It sounded like the whole house was being torn apart at the joists. His best friend was still in under the mantle, his hands pressed against the invisible barrier between them, waiting to pull Dean to safety when it finally gave way-if it gave way. Dean reached his hand toward the shield hoping it might do just that before the ceiling did. His hand would have met Caleb's if not for the force separating them, which now shimmered in an odd silver white light, the color of the ocean at twilight.

The house gave another great heave and Dean shouted for Caleb to get out, knowing his best friend wouldn't listen. Damien was held in place by a greater force than any spell, trapped just assuredly as Dean. That's why Dean was never more thankful for Bobby Singer's surprising agility and strength than when he tackled Caleb out of the way just as the prized mantle of cocobolo rosewood came crashing down bringing most of the stone fireplace and interior wall with it.

To be continued…